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#the band ghost fics
gasolineghuleh · 1 day
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A dirty-ass prompt: getting down and dirty with Mary Goore in a cemetery 👀
okay so this is what i was trying-- second person, past tense, and timed.
disclaimer; i don't like this one. it didn't turn out how i liked but i'm getting itchy trying to fix it. i feel like i fucked up tenses somewhere, but i'm trying to force myself to try a new tense for me.
creampie mary, weehaw
It was the coldest night of the year when you walked into that shithole dive bar down the road from the Abbey, practically looking for trouble. You were still covered in snow from a freak early-November storm that had caught you on your way out to meet up with your best friend, and you distinctly remember the snow flakes drifting from your shoulders and head to land on the floor of the bar, already melting away. The bartenders eyes met yours in a moment that would have heated the snow off of the sidewalk if you were outside.
It seemed you'd met Trouble.
He was a little taller than you and about thirty shades heavier handed with his eye makeup. His pale arm waved you forward to the bar, gesturing at a seat until you hopped up into it and settled down, giving him a simple drink order. The small talk that he made was comfortable; practiced. He asked what you did and you vaguely mentioned the Abbey, and then asked the same of him, and he replied with the name of the dive bar. The bar's name was stupid, like a joke you'd forgotten the punchline of, or one that the author couldn't bother coming up with, and you found yourself wondering if his name was any better. You almost smiled when he introduced himself as "Mary Goore", your brain already looking for the pun.
Your drink appeared in front of you and he raised his own to meet your glass with a gentle clink. "To Lucifer."
"To Lucifer," you replied, eyebrows shooting up into your brow line. He had some prior knowledge of the Abbey, it seemed... or he was just a tool. You were willing to jump his bones, either way. The two of you sipped your drinks and talked more about the Abbey and how he had been to shows before, that you just must not have noticed him in the crowds of people that congregated in the big cathedral. That, or he had a great knack for making himself invisible.
Eventually he changed the subject, asking you how long you've been a member of the Abbey and how you were liking it, if you felt it was for you or not, what it was like to live on the premises, and before you knew it, the glass you'd been sipping was empty, and he was asking you if you wanted to go for a ride with him. You swirled the dregs of your glass as you thought it over, wrestling with yourself about the safety of the choice-- it was dark and snowing, you were most certainly at least buzzed, and Mary is a new person to you.
Your eyes met his again, a cool green, and he broke into a toothy grin. The laughter lines around his face were prominent, and something behind his eyes was enough for you to agree.
It was Mary.
A small duffle bag was retrieved from somewhere in the back room and the lights were flicked off as Mary yelled at the remaining people at the bar to fuck off out the door; he's locking up for the night. Judging by the way that the patrons move, this wasn't a new experience for them. A few people lightly protested but a death glare from Mary had them hurrying their pace as he slammed the door closed behind them. He took off his black apron, draping it over a stool as he turned to you and clapped his hands together sharply.
"So," he grinned, "you want a ride or what?"
His car was a simple vehicle-- a low sitting two-doored thing, with fuzzy dice hanging from the rearview mirror and several bumper stickers. One of the stickers that had caught your eye said "Hella kids up in this bitch". When you made a comment about it, he had laughed and shrugged with one shoulder, motioning towards his balls.
The Abbey was on the other side of town from the dive bar, but somehow you and Mary arrived at the back doors before you could really process that you'd left. The ride over was filled with quiet ambient music from his stereo, and a rambling introduction from him that left you even more sure of your decision. He parked his car by the back door of the Abbey and turned to face you, slinging one arm over the back of his seat. The graveyard of Emeritus family lineage and the Siblings was visible over his shoulder, the snow on the graves melted from the heat of the nearby greenhouse.
"What?" you asked, your cheeks growing warmer with every second that passes.
"Nothin'," he countered with a shrug, "you're just hot." The smile that spread over his lips was wicked as he waited for your reaction.
"Are you hitting on me, Mary?"
He licked his lower lip with a nod before popping them together loudly, grinning. "Yup."
He didn't say anything more as you exited his vehicle, drumming your fingers along the hood of his car until you made it to his side. Mary's eyes were wide, watching you carefully until you leaned down and opened his car door, extending a hand to him.
"Enough small talk. Come rail me against a gravestone." Mary exhaled a bark of laughter, taking your hand with his left and turning off his car with the right.
You led him through the garden and around a hedge that opened up to reveal the more expensive crypts that dotted the square acreage of the Abbey. This was the most up-front and ridiculously blatant thing you'd ever done... but it was a thrill, wasn't it? His hand was still clasped in yours as you continued through the maze-like layout of the graveyard, passing stones and statues of Papa I and II and a few others you recognized until you arrived at an ornately carved stone angel. It was kneeling at a cross, hands clasped in prayer and face buried in the crook of their arm. You stopped and spun to face Mary, one hand already hiking up your dress.
Mary was grinning again as he pulled you closer to his body, pressing you up against the cool stone of the grave, his hands finally skating along your goose bumped skin. Your arm slid neatly around his shoulders, pulling him closer until his hips were slotted against yours perfectly. When your lips met it was electric, and Mary's shaky moan was enough to melt any remaining nerves you had. The sound of his jeans unzipping and boxers rustling was almost a relief. Your own dress was lifted up to your waist and pushed over your hips with ease.
"How are you gonna--?" He didn't bother answering you. Instead he lifted one of your legs around his hip, taking you by surprise as he hooked it behind him, allowing your foot to rest on his lower back. With his help you wrapped your legs around him as tightly as you could, leaning heavily on the statue behind you as his cock rubbed against the slickness between your lips. Your hand snaked down to grab him and hold him still as he lined up, teasing you for only a moment more before sinking deep into your heat.
"I catch on quick," he growled directly in your ear, sending shivers down your spine.
It wasn't the most comfortable position you'd ever been fucked in, but as Mary picked up a faster pace it felt less and less like the stone of the grave behind you was cutting into your skin and more like the heady mixture of pleasure and adrenaline you craved. His thrusts were rough but even and precise, the slapping sound of his hips against the back of your thighs almost drowned out by your shared heavy breathing. Mary's mouth was hot against your throat as he moaned, teeth sinking in lightly until he stopped at the juncture between your shoulder and neck to suck and bite at your flesh, making you cry out for him. Your body arched as he slammed into you, trying your best to move your hips in time with his to take him in even deeper, desperate for more of that feeling of being filled up.
"You going to cum for me?" he growled, his hands tightening on you where he held you aloft. You gasped in response, your cunt tightening around his cock as a sudden heat washed over you, spreading from your clit and up to the tips of your toes, the only response you could manage as he hit just the right spot over and over. Mary huffed out a breath of pleasure at the way that you tightened up around his dick, your orgasm causing you to involuntarily hold on tighter, nails digging into his skin through his thin shirt. "Cum all over my cock for me, babe. Fuuuck, you feel so fuckin' good."
"Mary--" Your voice was breathy as you felt another wave of your climax crash through you. The cool November night air around you did little to dampen the heat that Mary's body radiated or your own body heat, but it felt good, your sweat covered skin prickling with goosebumps. You managed to lift your head slightly, looking down to where you and Mary were joined. His jeans were open, cock sticking through the hole in the front of his boxers-- in fact, it seemed as though he wasn't even using the full length of his cock, pants bunched as they were.
"Fuckin- cunt, I'm gonna-" Mary cut himself off, mashing his lips against yours with a long and drawn out moan, hips kicking forward in time with the waves of his own climax. His teeth sank into your bottom lip and tugged, his breath coming in ragged pants and growls against you. When you were both sure you were finished, you carefully extricated your legs from their spot on Mary's hips, the two of you watching as he slowly slid out of you, leaving behind a warm trickle that ran down the insides of your thighs-- a hot reminder of your impulse decision. The sight made your face hot, but the look of pleasure on Mary's face when you made eye contact was worth it.
"Thanks for the ride," you said with a laugh, rubbing your hands along your thighs to warm up the muscle again. Mary snorted and dragged his hands across his face before looking at you. He waited for a beat before speaking.
"I haven't done something like that in years."
"I never have." You shrugged noncommittally, but Mary balked. "What? You were hot."
"So I'm your first, then? First one-night?" he corrected himself quickly. When you nodded he laughed again. "Look at you, making moves! But uh... I'm sorry to burst your bubble." Your eyes snapped to his, convincingly apologetic.
"What?"
"I uh.. Wouldn't mind if this wasn't a one night thing." Mary's hand went to the back of his head as he laughed shyly.
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copiasjuicebox · 6 months
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hahah i think secondo is just like, the biggest cuddler. you're in bed together? he's wrapped around you like a snake squeezing the life out of it's prey and he's not letting go until he sees fit. don't worry though, he won't actually squeeze the life out of you. and i honestly feel like he's the biggest cuddler out of all of them, but no one except primo knows lmao. terzo is also high on the scale, but he could never beat secondo. nor could copia.
Big scary man being the softest out of the 4? It makes sense. He's the type to want to cuddle after sex but doesn't want to initiate it (if its a one night stand) in fear of tainting his own self image. However, if he is with one of his partners he'll roll over and curl up with them, wrapping himself around their arm and using it as a pillow.
Some nights he likes to be the big spoon, ensuring that his you feel safe and secure against his broad chest. He strokes your hair and murmurs praise and affirmations while you struggle to keep your eyes open. Eventually you fall asleep to his humming.
Secondo is a touch starved man. He'll lean against Primo, shoulder to shoulder, in meetings. With Terzo it happens when they're on the couch. The brothers are watching some Western flick before Terzo complains and Secondo obliges by changing the channel to Rupaul's Drag Race. Terzo always drapes his legs over Secondo's lap, taking up the entirety of the couch as he lounges and has Omega feeding him grapes. Secondo rolls his eyes but the trust between them makes him feel warm.
The Cardinal is a touchy man. Fist bumps, hi fives, awkward side hugs. Secondo is cold at first, ignores him for the most part. But Copia (awkward as he is) knows how to read people. There was a time in which Secondo needed emotional support and Copia knew it from the moment he laid eyes on him, alone in Primo's gardens staring down at the little koi pond. They stand in silence before Copia pats his shoulder. Secondo turns and draws him in for a hug, resting his chin on Copia's shoulder, large arms holding him in a suffocating bear hug.
"Not a soul," Secondo threatens.
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montmartrasse · 2 years
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Holy shit I’m going insane rn…
Also this is in the silver mask era with the cutouts for their mouths
Okay, Swiss makes dew hard before a ritual then helps him get dressed and doing up his belt for him (for the sake of this idea they wear belts) but the problem with being hard in the suit is that the pants are pretty much skintight which means if he tucks it into his pants it’s gonna be very uncomfortable and obvious which means he’s forced to let his dick stand straight in his pants which also means that his tip will be stuck between his belt and his stomach which is why his eyes rolled to the back of his head as Swiss tightened the leather around his waist.
The ritual is torture for dew, he can feel himself leaking precum all over his stomach under the shirt and he’s secretly thanking Satan that their ritual clothes are black. He’s also trying his best to hold his guitar away from his body because as much as he loves the fact that it’s hiding everything, he can still feel the vibrations from it every time he plucks the strings.
He doesn’t jump around or stomp to the beat as much as he usually does but the rest of the ghouls have chalked it up to him being tired which isn’t a total lie but also isn’t the entire truth, Swiss knows tho, he knows just by dew’s heavy breathing and the fact that he looks like he’s trying not to curl in on himself.
By the end of the ritual dew is shaking, his breathing is heavy and Swiss is standing beside him holding his waist instead of his hand for the bow because he already knows the smaller ghoul is gonna collapse the second he lets go of him.
Once they’re off stage, everyone starts going around hugging and high-fiving each other, making jokes and laughing about things that they did on stage, and dew, poor dew is leaning against Swiss, head spinning while he waits for the taller man to take him to one of the dressing rooms and help him fix his problem.
Swiss stays there laughing and talking for a good 20 minutes before he even notices the death grip dew has on the arm wrapped around his stomach, and it’s then that he decides to say goodnight to the rest of the group. He drags dew to one of the dressing rooms and finally notices dews puffy red eyes and the tears streaming down his face under the mask, he grabs dews wrists and pins him against the wall, kissing him and pushing his knee between the smaller boys legs and pushes up till he’s standing on his toes which causes him to whimper as a set of fresh tears stream down his face, he’s so hard it hurts but he also knows Swiss isn’t gonna let him cum any time soon…
I’ll just leave this here…
-🫧
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two in one special! (the emojis look fucked up on my laptop lmao)
OR, if i may turn this around. because every now and then i have to let dewdrop take control otherwise just torturing him forever isn’t fun. so hear me out.
nsfw below
he knows swiss is not gonna let him cum any time soon. he knows. and he is ready to take the matters into his own hands. fed up with all this bullshit, all the teasing, torturing, dewdrop finally seeks a moment where he can take the reigns in his own hands.
so when they are finally alone in one of the dressing rooms (dew would have fucked swiss in the middle of everyone’s hangouts but he decided to allow swiss to feel in control for a little bit more before fighting back) and swiss is teasing him even more, knee between his legs, raising him high, his cock still between his pants and belly, the hem of his shirt is soaked, his face is puffy and red, eyes stinging, nose runny. swiss doesn’t care for his desperation, he just wants to torture him more and more. a twisted joy comes with putting the most unruly of them in his place.
so when swiss places the ghost of a touch on his cock through his pants, dewdrop sees red. dark, blood red. 
he lets out a guttural sound, one that would be heard by his bandmates several rooms over. he removed his mask with inhuman speed and bares his teeth at swiss’s face, hissing like a venomous snake warning a predator, and lets out his claws. 
he brings a clawed hand on swiss’s shoulder, digging into his neck and shoulder, blood pooling at the base of his nails almost immediately and a freeze takes over swiss’s body, leaving him even unable to make a sound. his legs practically stop working, forcing him to fall to his knees.
dewdrop now almost completely gone feral, rips the belt from his pants and unzips them, cock springing out immediately, covered in precum. 
he uses his free hand to force swiss’s mouth open by squeezing both sides of his cheeks and once he has his mouth open, he jams his cock down swiss’ throat without any warning. swiss chokes on it for a second before he can relax his mouth and get comfortable around it, only for dew to grab his hair and hold his head still and start fucking his mouth with all the pent-up energy. 
swiss now completely taken over by the feral ghoul just lets his mouth be used for dewdrop’s pleasure. he raises a hand to balance himself on dewdrop’s thigh, trying to stabilize himself a little more as dewdrop both pulls him closer by his hair and fucks back into his mouth. 
“you drive me fucking crazy,” dew hisses in between thrusts, “all fucking week,” he punctuates with each thrust. “do it again and next time i won't just fuck your mouth,” he brings swiss’s face to his crotch, burying his cock deep in his throat. he can feel swiss choking and gagging around the tip of it - just feels fucking wonderful. swiss’s nose touches the short blond hairs on his crotch and spit drools from his mouth - dew still tries to push even deeper down in his throat. 
once he feels like swiss cant hold there longer, he yanks his head back, releasing his cock from his mouth, only to give him a pitying smile decorated with vitriol. swiss willingly opens his mouth, slightly scared of the wild ghoul standing above him, but equally excited too.
satisfied with how obedient swiss is being, dew once again brings his cock back to his mouth, slower this time, and lets swiss actually suck his cock. swiss brings his other hand at the base of his cock, holding what he can’t fit into his mouth, and starts licking the sensitive underside of dewdrop’s cock, earning him a grunt and a thrown-back head. dew starts thrusting his hips once again, this time slower and gentler. swiss tightens the grip he has at the base of his cock and starts bobbing his head up and down with the rhythm of dewdrop’s hips. he removes the hand that was holding dewdrop’s thigh for balance and brings it to his balls, gently massaging the. he can feel dewdrop slowly trembling, and his chest rising heavily, and gets to work faster. he allows his teeth to scrape so so lightly. 
“fuck you and your mouth, fuck,” dewdrop moans, followed by unintelligible words. he straightens his head and brings his hand to swiss’s hair again, tight but still lighter than before, and goes back to fucking his mouth, hitting his throat with every thrust. 
“gonna cum down in your fucking throat,” he threatens, only for swiss to moan what sounds like yes around his cock. 
swiss squeezes the base of his cock before releasing it and pushing his head back to his crotch, deepthroating him one last time. his cock buried deep in swiss’s throat, dewdrop moans loudly and comes violently, shaking and swearing high hell and heavens. he pushes as deep as he can, fully intending on making swiss swallow every bit of his cum. with a sudden gag reflex, swiss removes his mouth from his cock, catching the last of dew’s cum on his face.
dewdrop starts jerking the last of his orgasm out of his cock, and places a hand on swiss’s face, smearing his cum all over his face and bringing his sticky fingers to his mouth for him to clean up, not giving him a chance to say a word.
“good. don’t mess with me again like that,” he says as he removed his hands, satisfied with the cleanup swiss he did and the mess he left on his face. 
he quickly pulls his pants back up and he walks up to his mask, putting it on and leaving the room; leaving swiss to conjure up even more ways to mess with him.
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copiousloverofcopia · 9 months
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What project are you currently working on??? 🖤
I usually try to work on 2 chapter fics at a time and then I work on some asks and commissions if I have them....
Currently I am working on both the next chapter of Something Blue (Copia x OC Astrid) and my non-ghost fic, An Unlikely Pair (Frighteners fanfiction) lol.
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ghuleh-recs · 6 months
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their combined powers were too great. he never stood a chance. rip king.
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melusiiine · 12 days
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i got my grubby little mitts on a commission slot by the magnificent @kabukiaku , the omega3 angst is perfection
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theshortstack · 9 months
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something about masked men…like damn
I would let them run me over for fun
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Still learning about these so
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novaiisk · 10 months
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🔆Terzo is safe in Omegas arms🔆
Everybody makes Terzo all depressed all the time so IM LETTING HIM BE HAPPY FOR ONCE ‼️‼️
[[ PRINT ]] [ part 2 ]
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kabukiaku · 9 months
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prob should've posted this with the last drawing but oh well. anyways SLIGHTLY SPICY BUT INTIMATE TERZOMEGA LETS GOOOOO!
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mardyart · 9 months
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[rains voice] ooh you wanna fuck the new ghoul so bad it makes you look stupid
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gasolineghuleh · 12 days
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Heated Pleasure
Commission from the lovely @monstercumhrt! Thank you dearest!
You, Swiss and Rain have been in a poly relationship for ages now-- you're well established partners in the Clergy... and so are their heat cycles, which often fall one after the other. When it's Rain's turn, you find yourself receiving a text invitation.
Pairing: Swiss/afab reader/Rain Polycule Word Count: 6.5k Tags: biting, choking, knotting, heat, threesome, cum eating, female oral, claws, animalistic Ghouls cw worthy tags are bolded for ease
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Rain is in heat. You know this, because he's been leaving you very detailed messages about it-- texts flood your phone with the various descriptive desires of one of your Ghouls, and you would be lying to yourself if you said you weren't secretly expecting a note to show up at your door, calling you to the dens that they share. Still, though, these texts feel more explicit than usual. Your heart pumps with adrenaline as you read through the salacious messages again. How he can't stop thinking about how your mouth feels around his cock. How he wants to bury himself in you until you're overflowing with his cum-- most of it could be misconstrued as normal horny-posting from any Ghoul with a cell phone, until one specific message.
The message that got you, made you gasp and clench your thighs together, was the one where he mentioned he has a right mind to breed you. You've always thought that Ghouls were sterile, but you guess not, and now you're more than a bit curious. So you've been keeping your schedule open. Just in case he calls, of course. You itch and ache for them both, and it likely won't get any better until you have a searing hot cock inside of at least one of your holes.
You feel a slight vibration in your pocket and pull out your phone. Perfect timing-- it's Swiss. He's sent you a text that says, "Come over." He isn't usually this short and to the point, and something about the text grabs at your gut in a way that tells you you're about to get what you want. You look at the time. It's almost midnight, and you aren't likely to get any sleep tonight unless you sate the yearning between your thighs. You sigh and shrug. Better now than later or tomorrow, you think. You grab your keys and wallet and lock the door behind you, shutting it quietly enough to keep the other Sibling's slumber uninterrupted. You head out into the night, traipsing quickly down the steep stone stairs leading from the dormitories to the lobby of the Abbey.
The large statue of the Baphomet sits hunkered down in the center of the lobby, large ruby eyes glistening wetly in the light from the braziers on the wall. You take a moment to uncross yourself, kissing your rosary in front of the statue and offering silent reverence for the absolute plowing you know you're about to receive-- who are you kidding, any pleasure *this* sinful has to have come from the Dark Lord himself. They don't call it a 'devil's threeway' for nothing, after all. 
You shake the spider webbing thoughts from the corners of your mind and hunker down by the side of the statue dais, locating the large black iron ring that serves as a door handle. The trapdoor swings up towards you with ease, silent on well-greased hinges. The path leading down is a bit darker than you would like and you feel your hackles rise slightly. Your breathing quickens and you fumble for the handrail, fingers finally wrapping around cool wrought-iron after blind flailing for a few moments. You know they probably can hear your heart pounding in your chest, but it's just Swiss and Rain waiting for your arrival down there, right? No need to be scared. 
For you, at least. 
The tunnels wind past the prison and stop cell blocks for the Siblings who've been cast aside by the Church, whether through discipline or willingness, and don't know that they're essentially living sacrifices. You feel sorry for them, but then again, they had to be the worst Siblings. Even for Papas, torture, or even death, tends to be undesirable. You shudder slightly as you remember the former Papa Emeritus the Third, whose reign in the church ended violently. They say if you can survive the dungeons under the Abbey, no infernal entity will ever frighten you again. Rumor has it that Earth has had new Siblings in the past, although you haven't seen any, except for the acolytes.
A chill rushes past you and you feel ice in your fingertips. Is it your own nerves getting the better of you, or are the stones breathing with your arrival? You manage to shake off the grip of fear that threatens to turn your innards to liquid, and slink your way down the stairs. Sconces alight on the walls as you descend, past the door that marks the cells and into the dens of the Ghouls.
It's cozier here than you expected; even the ceilings are decorated with chandeliers, and the walls are framed with archways that give you the feeling of being inside a grand space while still reminding you that you're underground. There are plush cushions and other various fabrics strewn about the floor, surrounding a low lying platform in the middle of the room. The other Ghouls lounge and play about on various instruments as you make your way down the stairs, finishing the last step. Their eyes are alight as their gaze locks onto yours, illuminated almost eerily in the dance of the flames that lick up the sconces on the walls. Some are draped half over the edge of the platform, some entangled with one another, while others look inviting to sit upon.
One of the Ghouls catches your eye, slanted smile painted on their smarmy face. You can't tell if it's a Ghoul or a Ghoulette, but their eyes scream of sex and the flick of their tail suggests that they find you attractive enough to consider it. You smile and catch yourself, quickly averting your eyes towards the corridor and jerking your chin slightly.
"Are Rain and Swiss down there?" you ask. The Ghoul looks disappointed briefly before wiping it from their face and taking on a flirty and airy look instead. They wave their fingers in the direction of the hallway before tucking their hand back under their chin. 
"Down there, sweet skin. Unless you'd rather spend the night with me instead." The Ghoul's forked tongue comes out to flick towards you quickly. "Bet I could make you smile, hm?" You huff out a surprised laugh and feel heat creeping up your face, no doubt visible to the Ghoul with their vision. 
"I have a- uh- arrangement," you stammer out, jerking your thumb lamely in the direction they indicated. Their eyebrow cocks up and you feel your blush deepen. "Prior! We, uh- made it." 
They shrug and run their long, forked tongue over the side of their teeth. "Tis your loss, pretty one. Come find me sometime, and bring the Ghouls. I'm always amenable to a plaything or two." Their tail flicks in amusement and you shiver; your thighs are wet now, as if the Ghoul has convinced your own nether bits that you want it to happen without conscious thought.
You stutter out an "Okay" before turning and walking in the direction of the Ghouls' rooms. Your mind plays the scenario in quick, flashy snippets: Fingers-turned-tongues explore the interior and exterior of your already-soaked sex in the dim but flickering light from the candles mounted on the wall. Another shake of your head to dispel the thoughts and you're moving swiftly, striding through the curved hallway until you find a bedroom with an open door. Peeking through it you see Swiss on a bed that's been pushed up against the wall, his back pressed to the stone and a guitar in his hands. He's strumming lazily, his eyes closed and face tilted towards the low ceiling. His mouth isn't moving but you can hear him humming something, and you stand by the door and watch him silently until he opens his eyes. He doesn't miss a beat, gesturing lazily to his side and not stopping what he's doing.
You kick off your shoes into the corner of the room and join him on the bed, hopping up with ease. Swiss watches you as you do, his hands still moving lithely over the strings of the guitar. You run a hand over his thigh, admiring his skin against yours. He moves a hand to adjust his mask and you feel your chest get tight, like it does every time you look at him. You reach out and feel your hand caress the leather portions of the mask over his cheek and he looks down and chuckles quietly, his ears turning red.
"Missed me, huh?" he teases, setting his instrument aside on the edge of the bed.
"When have I ever not?" you reply breathlessly. He runs a hand through your short hair as he pulls you closer, leaning forward and pressing his lips to yours. You grab the tops of his biceps and restrain yourself from letting your kiss go deeper; after all, the longer you wait, the more it will excite the both of you... and there's still neither hide nor hair of Rain. Swiss' hands glide from your neck to your waist, drawing you closer with a possessive tug and a growl. The rumble causes heat to flare in your core and you gasp lightly, breaking the kiss and licking your lips. His hand comes up to grip the back of his mask, tugging at the strings that hold it together and allowing it to fall to the floor.
He's beautiful like this-- face slightly flushed with the beginnings of arousal and eyes glinting amber with a twinge of mischief behind them. His fanged teeth poke out just slightly from the corners of his mouth, which are tilted up into a perfect smile. Swiss leans back, giving you a better look at him, one eyebrow cocking Heavenward in a display of cockiness. He knows he's gorgeous, and better yet, he knows that you know. When he tosses his hair behind his shoulder you smile; his beauty still takes your breath away, even a whole relationship and years later.
"Like what you see, don't you?" he says, cockiness on full display. Swiss pumps his hips a little, rolling his pelvis in a way that makes you hungry for him. 
"As if I haven't been very vocal about that in the past," you laugh, making a move to push his shoulder in jest. Instead, Swiss grabs your wrist in a smooth motion, fingers curling around you enough to feel his claws against your skin. You gasp before laughing, reaching for him with the arm, which he quickly grabs as well, trapping it against his chest. "You gonna let me go or not, big man?"
"Never. You belong to us." 
Swiss tugs you back against him with a growl of ownership and your faces mash together, teeth and lips and tongues the perfect recipe for hunger building between your legs. He's all hard angles and planes and heat under your fingers, the long, rippling muscles under his smooth skin easily accessible for you to explore. You drag your fingertips over his skin and hear his breath hitch, his hips rolling up against you. He breathes hot against your mouth and the skin of your face feels electric with desire. Rain is likely to feel it before he even enters the room; you pull back and touch your cheeks with your fingers and smirk, lips brushing lightly over the shell of his ear.
"I'm turning beet red already," you say quietly, allowing your heated breath to warm his neck. You hear his sharp intake of breath at the sound of your voice and feel yourself involuntarily clench your thighs at the look of pure lust in his eyes as he looks back at you. He smells earthy, almost sweet, with a hint of musk; it reminds you of autumn nights spent lying awake, anticipating the flurry of activity that came with Samhain, the harvest feasts and the endless rounds of fucking in celebration of the season.
Swiss licks his lips before capturing them between his teeth, sucking them and looking contemplative as you feel the brush of something across your thighs. You look down and realize his tail has snuck up to wrap around one of them, and it squeezes lightly before smoothing over the skin. The spade head of his tail sneaks slowly up your leg, teasing at the edge of your habit before sweeping back down, caressing you gently. When you tilt your eyebrow at him, his sly smile cracks into a cocksure grin, pupils blown black in lust already.
"Maybe we could get started while we wait for Rain?" he suggests, his tail slipping further this time and sliding underneath your dress. You lean back enough to scan his body-- smooth and sculpted under his unbuttoned blouse. The planes of his chest are all hard muscle and coarse hair, rising and falling with his breaths. The side panels of his shirt rest on either side of him and you can't help the tingle that settles between your thighs when your eyes slide over the trail of hair that leads down from his navel. There's a twitch at the junction of his hip, a long stripe of flesh flitting in and out of sight; he definitely just jumped, or at least, part of him did.
"At the very least," you reply breathlessly, hiking your dress up over your hips, "this may keep your attention until he gets here." Before the words leave your lips Swiss is on you again, flipping you swiftly until you're beneath him. He brackets your waist with his thighs, holding you down so you can't move and settling his crotch firmly against yours. There's a small wet spot under his bulge in his pants and you feel yourself clench from the thought of being the source of his precum.
Swiss presses against you, sandwiching you between the mattress and himself. His cock throbs against your cunt and your attention narrows to that single point of contact. You stifle a moan when he thrusts his hips slowly against your core, smearing the wet spot from your underwear to his pants and causing another rush of warmth to suffuse your cheeks, leaving them blazing red with arousal and embarrassment.
Your first, deep inhale yields the scent of incense that permeates the lower level, combined with something fresh, clean, and purely him, deep from within-- could it be pheromones? Was Swiss in heat too? Warmth pours off him onto you and makes your head fuzzy, your hands automatically reach to wrap around his biceps and hold him in place, back arched, hips unable to move. You struggle in vain to get some kind of leverage but he has you locked down in this position.
He puts his teeth on your neck and bites lightly, not enough to break the skin, but enough to let you know that he's the one in power here-- just in case you had any lingering thoughts of denial or escape. His fangs just barely pop through the skin and you gasp loudly enough for him to pull back, eyes narrowed quizzically. 
"You want the Ghoul or not, baby?" he asks, deliberately pushing his hips against your cunt again. It's been ages since you've allowed either of the boys to bite you, bringing blood, but you're not directly opposed to it. You flush again and reach up behind Swiss' head, dragging him back down against you and pulling his head against your neck. His lips curl into a smile against the soft skin of your throat before he bites you again, forked tongue lapping gently against the small wounds.
The sensation travels to your core as if electric, sending jolts of liquid fire through you to the exact spot where the rounded head of his cock rubs firmly against your slit, soaking your underwear and likely his pants in the process. He growls lightly against the now-marked flesh of your neck and you moan breathily. Blood rolls gently from the slight punctures at a speed quick enough to start pooling under your skin and he laps at the wounds again before finally getting to his feet. You follow him upright, vision slightly fuzzy and head filled with fuzzy cotton batting as you sway on your knees.
Swiss' hands snap out, holding your shoulders steady with his palms flat. You wobble on the bed and his grip changes, sliding his hands up the sides of your neck until he can rest his palms against either side of your windpipe-- one delicate squeeze and it would all be over. 
But he doesn't.
Rain appears in the doorway, wordlessly kicking the door shut behind him and sweeping his jacket off of his shoulders in the same motion. His eyes find yours and you watch as he flicks back and forth between Swiss and you, trapped underneath him. Rain's mouth gapes for a second before he regains his composure and grins, stepping further into the room and unbuttoning his shirt, letting the side panels fall free to expose his chest and stomach. His lean and lithe body has always been a point of attraction for you, and he more than likely knows the effect that the simple motion has on you. 
"I see you've gotten started without me, aye? Is that fair, when I'm the one who called for it and the one who needs a good rutting?" he asks, his voice good natured. Rain works at his belt and removes it, looping it easily with a soft noise and dropping it back at his feet. He does the same with his pants and slides them down his legs, standing before you now in nothing but his underclothes, slightly more modest than yours, which are almost completely transparent with your arousal. Rain's eyes scan over your legs before he reaches down to take his cock in his hand, rubbing the palm of his other hand firmly over the tip and palming the exposed head. He makes eye contact with you, hooded and dripping with lust, and for a second you wonder if he's got that water magic thing going on that the Nephilim have or if he's just unbelievably turned on.
Swiss growls slightly, rolling the two of you with ease until you're straddling his hips, cunt pressed against the bulge in his pants. The thought of grinding yourself down against him is tempting, but passes almost as soon as you feel Rain behind you, his hands moving down your back to cup your ass appreciatively. He grinds himself between your cheeks and groans loudly, reaching down between you to yank off his underclothes. You drop your head and put your palms down on Swiss' chest, your blunt fingernails making small indents into his skin. Rain claws at the elastic band of your underwear, tugging them down roughly until you hear the seams start to fray. 
"Say please," you practically whisper with a wink that only Swiss can see, reaching behind you to wrap a hand loosely around his throbbing length. One of Rain's hands spreads the cheeks of your ass while the other moves between them, slicking your own juices, now mixed with his, over your tight hole before sliding two fingers inside of you. You clench hard around the feeling and tighten your grip around him, twisting your hand lightly to stroke him. He groans in pleasure, already strung tighter than a drum and quivering at the need, the urgent and ever present need, to cum. Rain's fingers scissor you open slowly and he leans forward enough to rake his tongue across your shoulders and neck, the long, forked end leaving a cooling trail of spit on your arousal heated flesh. His claws prickle against your skin before sinking in slightly and you raise your ass further, giving him a better angle to finger you.
Swiss leans forward, nuzzling his nose against the soft skin of your neck and inhaling. His cock twitches where it presses against your belly, and you can practically feel it pulsing in time with his heartbeats. His mouth drops open slightly as he smells again, fixated on the spot where your shoulder meets your neck. The animalistic action sends a surge of panic to your brain that your body interprets as arousal, a thought that will likely only occur to you once the danger has passed and you're alone in your bed. You rock your hips against Swiss and Rain, the slight amount of movement enough to make both men groan audibly.
The pressure of Rain's cock withdraws and you feel it head first against your aching cunt. He grabs your hips and tugs you against his chest, pulling you into him at a sudden and unsuspecting pace. Rain pushes in easily and settles his hips flush with your ass with a long groan, claws finding purchase against your hips again and holding you in place. You flex your walls slightly and let yourself adjust to his heat, full and heavy and settled inside of you. Already, there's the swelling of a knot where his cock meets his slender hips and the thought goes directly to your clit. He's only knotted you once or twice before, but the feeling was enough to make you crave it every time he mentions his heat cycle.
One of your hands wanders south, reaching for Swiss' cock and spreading a bit of precum from the head over the remaining length before teasing him again-- it's swollen and purple, and you ache to feel it inside of your mouth, but the pleasure of Rain's cock is far too much to want to move. Rain snarls from behind you almost as if he's read your mind and slams his hips against yours, his knot pushing at the tight ring of muscle and threatening to split you in two. You give Swiss one last look before bucking your hips, grinding up and against him the best you can from your position. Rain moans as you take his knot halfway before relaxing and wiggling your hips from side to side until he's slid inside you, and he growls something you think is swearing as you fully seat him. Rain's dick is longer than Swiss' and always leaves you gasping at the feeling of being crammed, full enough to hurt and spread open at every point.
"Sathanas, Rain," you gasp, each shuddering breath inward only serving to remind you just how much of him is inside of you. "You couldn't wait?" His sharp exhalation, part laugh and part relief, are all you hear from behind you. Rain's nose trails along your shoulder, warming the fabric of your habit. His other hand has found the junction between your thigh and your side, squeezing possessively as his cock throbs inside of you. He must be aching, straining not to push any further against your walls and the tension keeping his knot out of your body for the moment.
"Been too long," Rain replies simply, his grip tightening as if to make his point. He pushes himself closer to you, teeth resting against the soft skin of your neck as the claws of his free hand sink into your hip again. The bite of pain is welcome, the dull throb in tandem with his pulse as his cock continues to threaten and push outward at the places you're bound to ache after tonight. You reach a hand out and grasp at Swiss' as Rain exhales another shaky, shuddering, trembling moan and begins to rock his hips back and forth. Swiss' fingers entangle themselves with yours as your lips meet, his teeth biting gently on your lower lip.
There's the loud, rhythmic noise of flesh against flesh, Rain and your thighs each hitting you from either side, causing your entire frame to jump. Balls land heavily against the curve of your ass, thick with seed and desperate to empty inside of you. This is the life, and you are the mate, and tonight you are the receptacle of everything he can give, all his pent up energy and desire in this single rutting season. You imagine his eyes fluttering, eyes rolling back inside his head as he closes them to shut out the rest of the world and the task at hand.
Swiss' cock twitches in your hand and you stroke him again, the momentary lapse in concentration making his lips curl into a smile against yours. When he leans forward to kiss you harder, Rain grips your hair in a free hand, tugging you back against him instead and breaking the kiss between you and Swiss. "Give me time," he growls down at Swiss, who puts his hands up simply and leans back on the bed, content to let you grind on him and watch the show. Rain, in heat, clearly feels the need to dominate the situation for the time being.
Swiss rests up on his elbows, giving you a better view of his body and using the freedom to tilt his head slightly. His eyes, normally light and jovial, now seem as if they're burning holes into your body where they gaze, and you are hyper aware of him tracing out a circle around where your body connects with Rain's. His claw trails lightly over the delicate nub of your clit and you gasp, your cunt tightening around Rain's knot, sending shivers up your spine. Your thighs tremble with the effort of holding yourself in position and Rain, noticing your discomfort, eases you down onto Swiss' waiting chest, allowing you to relax and let it push deeper inside of you.
Sucking in a breath through your teeth you look up at Swiss again, whose mouth stretches wide and curved at the corners with the hint of a smile. "Should I-" you start, cut off suddenly by the sharp and near violent sensation of Rain thrusting deeply into you, stretching you to your very limits as he grunts in pleasure. He bends at the waist over you, one hand slipping around you, low at your hips to drag you sharply against him and drive you in further and deeper than before. One of his long fingers dances around your clit as he drives into you, his cock filling you and pressing against the exact spot that you need him. 
"God, Rain, you- need- to- be- careful- or I'll-" you cut yourself off, your words punctuated by his thrusts as he grows more and more desperate. With a barely contained shriek you cum, your cunt tightening on Rain's cock as pleasure wracks your body. Swiss moves his hips underneath you, urging you on with profanity laced dirty talk. The bulge of his cock presses against your thigh and he pulses it in time with his hip movements.
Your words lose their way, scattered in between sharp breaths and twitches of your hips. Everything is heightened: The warmth of Rain's cum filling you while your breasts brush lightly against Swiss' hard chest, the sound of skin against skin and quiet pants, his subtle but unyielding musk overpowering your senses. Overwhelming, almost, and your body reacts to the tension in the pit of your abdomen and in Rain's. Your shoulder burns where Rain has already sunk his teeth into you once this evening, a rush of blood welling and leaking in crimson beads that travel further and further as Rain tightens his grip, thrusting unevenly into you. His breath catches in his throat and his knot expands just enough for a sharp and almost painful thrust, prompting a sharp hiss as you cry out. You feel the sensation of fullness in your belly and cunt as he finishes, emptying himself inside you with a shuddering and grating exhale that borders on a sob. His body trembles around you, almost in tandem with yours, shaking from the tension and exertion.
When his hips stop moving his teeth relax in your flesh, pulling free with a popping sensation and know he's definitely broken skin this time. His tongue laps gently at the bite, a soft noise coming from him that could have been mistaken as a whimper were it not coming from someone of Rain's nature. The pressure of him is immense inside of you, a deep and profound sensation that sends aftershocks through your entire body. Swiss' hands rub gently along your sides, encouraging you with soothing and soft words as you come down. Behind you Rain breathes heavily, his breaths of exertion hot against your sweat cooled skin. Now that you're coming down you feel the ache beginning in your core, and you shift slightly on Swiss' lap. 
"Uncomfortable, dove?" Rain asks softly, lips starting to pepper the nape of your neck with kisses and nips. His claws still rest on your hips, gently rubbing the soft skin and raising goosebumps in their wake. Your breathing hitches again when the motion of his fingers drags the sensitive nerves and sends more shivers down your spine. His knot slowly recedes and a throbbing ache begins to take its place. Rain chuckles, low in his chest, and you can feel it in your body as if he's taken hold of your ribcage. He hums contentedly, and the rumble sends tingles of pleasure up your spine and a pulsing throb from your clit. "Swiss will take care of that. I've got to grab a smoke."
The weight of Rain on your back disappears, the shift causing you to wince at the slight adjustment as you roll off Swiss onto your side. Your cunt aches with the loss of Rain's knot and you can feel your muscles beginning to tighten with the activity. Swiss stands and stretches, popping his shoulders before he leans down over you, kissing your stomach. "Let me take care of you, now," he mumbles against your skin, facial hair prickling you softly.
"Mm," you manage to get out, scooting across the bed slightly when he motions at you. You sling one arm over your eyes, relaxing back into the pillows and Swiss adjusts and positions himself between your legs. He kisses your inner thighs slowly and luxuriously, lips caressing the soft skin before he uses his fingers to part the flesh around your entrance. Warm, wet tongue drags lightly over your pussy and your entire body shivers at the contact as you tremble underneath him. You're only slightly overstimulated, and the soft and lathing tongue does more to relax and soothe you than anything else. Swiss takes his time with your cunt, lapping gently at your clit, tongue teasing along your sensitive and swollen lips. He pays particular attention to the flesh between your inner and outer lips, knowing it's more sensitive and licking softly before flicking over the delicate flesh, careful not to let his fangs scrape your skin. When his tongue sweeps across your entrance you jolt, gasping slightly before relaxing back into his touch.
His arms rest loosely around your hips, pulling you slightly forward in an effort to bury his tongue as deeply inside your hole as he can reach. In the same second his claws dip into your skin, leaving indentations that will last until the next morning. Another moan escapes you, your free hand reaching down to grasp for Swiss' hair-- an anchor to lash yourself to. Swiss' tongue flicks across your clit again before diving back into you, and your entire body shivers in response. When he looks up at you and catches your eye, his own are aflame and a slight smirk curls his lips before he drops his head again.
"Gonna fuck you soon, baby girl, soon," he purrs, breath ghosting lightly across the sensitive skin of your hips. You shudder and jerk again, and when his tongue darts across your clit and down the flesh leading to your cunt, the motion is deliberate and meant to draw a reaction. It works, and your body shivers, gooseflesh erupting down your spine. His teeth tease your entrance, gently nipping at the delicate flesh as the spade head of his tongue sweeps against you once more.
"God, Swiss, your tongue," you say softly, twisting your fingers tighter into his hair. He chuckles softly against you before pulling back and shaking your hand gently free of his head. Swiss slides smoothly on top of you with one motion, his cock already freed and leaking as it drags along your belly. You reach up and wrap your arms around his shoulders instead, dragging him down against you to kiss you deeply. When his lips meet yours they're warm and full, the taste of yourself and Rain still present as he pushes his tongue past your teeth, tangling with yours. 
The scent of incense fills your nose again and you sigh softly against his lips before they pull away. Swiss smiles softly as he settles his weight on his forearms, hands cupping either side of your head as he runs the length of his cock between your folds, rubbing and pressing at your clit with the rounded tip of his cock. You suck in a sharp breath and let out a shuddering gasp, heat building inside your abdomen already, although you'd just orgasmed less than ten minutes before.
"Swiss," you manage to get out as you roll your hips down and press yourself against his shaft. The friction makes you whine, a breathy moan leaving your lips and ending on the softest of exhalations, your body relaxing back into the sheets of his bed. Swiss looks up and grins, his hands now on your hips, thumbs stroking over the soft, delicate skin as he teases you with the head of his cock, pressing in slowly and then drawing it away.
"What do you want, sweet thing?" He punctuates with another flick of his hips, pulling his cock against your clit once more, his breath catching slightly as the friction rubs your sensitive skin. You tremble with want, a desperate ache settling into your belly again, but your tongue is heavy in your mouth and you can't form the words that he so clearly wants from you. "You know, if I knew you'd be so shy about saying it I would've asked Rain to stick around," he chuckles, tilting his hips so that the length of his cock settles over your stomach, warm and pulsing in time with his heartbeat. He tilts his chin down at you as you look up and smiles. "What do you want me to do? You know I want you to tell me," he prompts.
You inhale again and sigh out, relaxing under his touch and feeling a flush creep over your neck and chest as you swallow hard. "I need your cock in me, Swiss, please," you murmur, looking up at him through hooded eyes, eyelids fluttering when his fingers flex and squeeze the sensitive flesh at the juncture of your hips and thighs. Swiss groans, shifting on top of you before sliding his hand between the two of you to grasp his cock. You can feel it slide wetly over the skin of your stomach as he jerks his hand over it, your hips rolling and meeting his movement. His eyes lock with yours and his pupils blow wide with arousal before his cock slides into position, pushing into the tightness of your body and stretching your cunt around it.
He's a more comfortable fit than Rain's knot, to be sure, but the sudden feeling of being filled is all the same. Swiss thrusts slowly at first, each motion stretching and teasing your inner walls as your cunt stretches to accommodate his girth. Each thrust is deliberate and careful, a test of restraint for him as well as a test of patience for you. You try to pull him against you by the hips, and when that doesn't work, by his shoulders, but he shakes free of each grip with a breathy laugh and an exhalation that makes his mouth twitch into a smirk. "Don't you know patience is a virtue, baby?" he growls playfully. 
"You saw what Rain just did to me-- I didn't have much patience then, either." Your quip comes quick and effective, making Swiss snort out a laugh.
"Yeah, that's-" He rolls his hips, making you gasp, eyes flying wide open. "That's about right," he says, settling into a rhythm finally, the sound of skin on skin getting louder as he does. He drives the tip of his cock into you, teasing against you.
"Don't play that way with me," you manage, looking up at Swiss, whose smile turns into a devilish grin. He reaches down, pinning one of your legs underneath him with one of his own. When his hand wraps around your throat your eyes fly wide and you inhale, a short and startled sound that's cut short by Swiss' firm grasp.
"Is this better?" he asks, tilting his hips so that he slams into the spot that makes you see stars and you know it won't be long until you witness the cosmos flashing in front of you as you cum for the second time. The motion makes you spasm involuntarily, and he squeezes your neck tighter, watching as your face goes from light red to dark crimson before his hand eases the grip slightly.
You shudder against his fingers as his hips snap against your clit again, and the pressure on your neck, although light, still has you feeling slightly dizzy and disoriented, like your entire being has narrowed down to the spot where the two of you join. His hands tighten on you again as his eyes fix on yours, searching your face for a sign of discomfort. With another powerful thrust he cums, his hand squeezing harshly for a moment before releasing entirely. Swiss drops over top of you, his hands pressed into the bed on either side of your head and he breathes heavily, his hips twitching and cock pumping inside of you.
His thrusting is slow and shallow, drawing his cum out against your walls and leaving a sticky warmth between your thighs when he withdraws, slumping off of you to lay on his back at your side. His arm goes across your shoulders as he catches his breath, his lips moving against the side of your head. You feel your eyelids get heavy as you come down and snuggle closer, listening to his heartbeat slow to a normal pace. You hear Rain in the hallway and the sound of the pipes creaking as he turns the taps.
You blink and Rain is there, gently tending to you with a warm and dampened wash rag, whispering words of love and praise for your mushy brain to soak up. Swiss nods along with him, reinforcing the words of endearment and adding his own, whispered softly into the crook of your neck with earnest. 
And then it is morning.
----
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copiasjuicebox · 9 months
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'You always see the good in people, even me' but make it secundo/reader
soft ask memes
Secondo x Reader Rating: safe for work Ficlet because I'm sleepy and have some writers block Written in the first person
"You always see the good in people," Secondo says tiredly. We sit on the dock, our feet in the water. We are down the hill from the Ministry and decided to spend the evening at the lake. It was common for Siblings of Sin and Ghouls to come down here to relax beneath the willow trees or go skinny dipping in the dark, bathed under the moonlight and the stars.
Secondo is still in his skull paint and regalia. I have woven myself so tightly around his finger that he allows himself to dip his feet in the cool water with a shiver. Some of his robe gets wet but he doesn't seem to mind. Too deep in thought.
"Even me..."
"And what's wrong with that?" I ask, playing bumping my shoulder against his. "You're not as bad as people say you are."
He chuckles gruffly and shakes his head. He looks down at our reflection and I swear I can see a smile staring back at me.
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nastylittleghouls · 3 months
Text
All Aether wants for Christmas is Dew
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Kinktober Day 10
Forced Feminization - Rain/Dewdrop
Read on AO3
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ghuleh-recs · 7 months
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swiss keeping his man (re: actual puppy) in line.
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writingjourney · 10 months
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a message from the bulletin board | cardinal copia x gn!reader
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summary: the ministry’s bulletin board, ordinarily used for missing items or party announcements, contains a particularly interesting request this week – a lonely hearts ad.
content: 9k words, gn!reader, slightly suggestive at times, first date/first kiss shenanigans, sad lonely awkward cardinal fluff, you know the drill
Masterlist – Ao3 link
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You ignore the knot of people in front of the bulletin board.
As much as the whispers and giggles garner your attention, someone else attracts it even more. Cardinal Copia, red cassock, red biretta, arms filled with two boxes worth of files and papers, is trying to push the door to his office open with his hip under a swell of Italian curses. Certainly, his hip swing is impressive on most days, especially on stage, but today it seems more like a helpless, uncoordinated bumping that the door is fighting with every ounce of its wooden strength.
Evidently, he’s struggling.
“Good morning, Cardinal, do you need a hand?”
His eyebrows shoot up when he hears your voice and he stops dead in his tracks, slowly turning his head until he catches you standing right behind him. Despite your announcement, he visibly startles, nearly dropping the boxes in his arms.
“Oh, eh… yes, if you could open the door for me, Sibling?”
“Of course.”
With your hand on the knob, you watch as he hurries inside of his office, wheezing under the weight and dropping the boxes onto his desk with a dull thud that echoes loudly in his mostly bare working space. Apart from books upon books strewn across and around his desk as well as an old weathered couch, there hasn’t been any love put into decorating the space. You wait patiently for him to turn back around to you, a hint of red dusting his cheeks when he finally does.
“Thank you,” he squeezes out, trying very hard to swallow his heavy exhales. “I carried them here all the way from the archives. Long way, you know, even for my…” He holds up his arm, flexing it exaggeratedly. “My strong, powerful muscles.”
You giggle and he perks up in delight, eyes wide and shiny. “No problem, Cardinal, I can imagine they’re very heavy.” 
You smile at him and he smiles back, so sweetly, and you’re momentarily at an equal loss for words. A bead of sweat rolls down his forehead, down the prominent bridge of his nose. He brushes it away with a leather-gloved hand and you can’t help but stare as he wipes it clean on the heavy fabric of his vestments, shaking out his fingers once he’s done. You can’t look away as they flex and release, flex and release. They’re surprisingly long and so… nimble.
Copia’s violent cough startles you awake and you’re not sure if it’s his own nerves that make him clear his throat, if his overexerted lungs are protesting or if he caught you staring. Either way, you feel your own cheeks getting hot now, the moment of hesitant silence slowly transitioning into a gooey sort of awkwardness.
“So, ugh… I better get back to my own duties,” you say. “Lots to do, spring cleaning and all that.”
He nods. “Yes, yes, you are busy, of course. Such a busy little bee. Bzz bzz. Hehe.”
You awkwardly giggle back, trying hard to think of a clever joke. Maybe something that has to do with stinging? But before you can settle on one, the time for a witty come-back has stretched thin and so you just awkwardly wave at him, mutter a “see you later” and close the door.
With your back pressed to the wood, you let out a deep exhale, the butterflies – or bees – in your stomach making it very hard to breathe at a normal pace. Once you’ve recollected your wits, you notice that the hallway is still as busy as before, maybe even busier.
Like lions gathering around an animal carcass after days of starvation, what feels like half the abbey has been flocking to the big rectangular corkboard. You cannot possibly imagine what would warrant such intense interest. The most exciting messages on any given day are unusual sex requests, the invitation to a weirdly themed party or a call for applications to a particularly intricate sex ritual to honour the Dark One.
You push through the crowd to check what’s causing the repeated giggling and excited whispers amongst your peers when you spot a pristine piece of paper on the board. It’s thick, stark-white, shaped like a heart at the top and with pieces to rip off at the bottom that contain a phone number. You squint, move in even closer until you can make out the text – hand-written and in cursive.
I (m, 50) am looking for a partner to spend the rest of my life with. I don’t have any preferences but it would be coolio if we had similar interests, so we can have some fun together.
I like: watching movies, playing video games, going on walks, rigatoni, juice, small animals
I don’t like: coconut flavour, being barefoot, swimming, touching wet dishes, bullies, dentist appointments
If you think we are a good match I would like to take you on a romantic date. Please call or text me.  Bye bye!
You smile at the note but quickly find back down to earth when someone rams their elbow into your side. No one has taken one of the numbers yet, so you assume the excitement is more about the fact that there is a lonely hearts ad on the bulletin board at all than any actual interest in the person. You have to admit, it is a bit odd. Most younger clergy members just use dating apps these days or social media. But the lonely heart in question is fifty, so they may not be familiar with modern methods, and it’s oddly endearing that anyone would go through the trouble of creating such an ad. At the same time, it breaks your heart that someone in the abbey is so lonely that they risk the ridicule of half of the clergy members just to have a chance at finding love.
“Well, there are a bunch of people who it could be,” you overhear someone say. “Maybe one of the older Brothers, a bunch of them are single. Could also be that new bishop who just arrived, I heard he’s a cinephile and walks around the gardens quite often.”
You ignore the whispers of speculation, making your way back through the crowd to return to your duties. It’s almost dinner time by now and you need to get two more loads of laundry done before then. But even as you sort through piles of habits, cassocks and veils… you can’t stop thinking about the ad. You sincerely hope the person receives a few serious and not just prank calls. The note did sound endearing and you definitely see similarities. At the same time you’re far too busy nursing your hopeless crush on the Cardinal to actually entertain the thought of dating someone else. 
You decide to check on the ad again tomorrow, see if anyone took a number, and if not, you could at least save it to your phone… just in case.
✦ ✧ ✦ 
Two birds land on his window sill, rubbing their beaks together in a kiss before happily chirping at each other. They’re in love, literal love birds, building a nest on the little protrusion in the wall right below his window. He’s been watching them occasionally, unreasonably envious, as they bring in twig after twig, ready to start their family. From the same window, Copia can make out the spring-filled gardens with their colourful patches of pink and red tulips, bumblebees hurrying from blossom to blossom, drunk on pollen and greedy for more. He can overlook the bright green meadow leading down to the pond, speckled with lush, budding trees. At this time of the day, after everyone finished their daily duties, the grass has almost completely disappeared under a plethora of picnic blankets.
Spring fever, he assumes, has to be the reason why everyone seems to be in love. Couples dozing in each other’s arms in the shade of the trees, feeding their lovers berries or grapes, taking a stroll down to the pond with their joined hands dangling between them, kissing without pause in the archways of the cool stone walkways leading outside. Just now he spots two Sisters rubbing sunscreen on each other’s bare shoulders, one of them kissing the other's head before they fall back onto their blanket, giggling happily at each other.
He feels so incredibly lonely.
This has been going on for weeks now and he’s tired of feeling so shamefully worthless of affection. Instead of the arms of his lover, he sinks into his tattered old desk chair and drowns his sorrows in boring paperwork. Not that that’s going well, but for lack of alternatives, he’d rather do budget calculations than sit in his quarters all alone. Every evening, the spring breeze carries the sound of happy laughter through his windows, usually while he’s playing video games all by himself, but he can’t keep them closed if he doesn’t want to sweat to death. Besides… that same gentle breeze is the only thing caressing his skin as he tries to fall asleep at night and if he closes his eyes, the wind almost feels like fingertips ghosting over his arms.
As he leaves his office that night, he receives another heavy but sadly much expected blow. Almost a week now and still no one has taken one of the numbers from his lonely hearts ad. Of course it doesn’t mean no one saved it to his phone, he tells himself, people are shy or they just don’t want to date an anonymous person. It has nothing to do with him, they don’t even know it’s him. And yet… if his dating streak continues so poorly, he’s not sure if he can stay sane for much longer. There are only so many tears you can cry in bed at night before it starts to take a toll on you.
His heart is especially heavy as he makes his way to his lonely quarters. One more day and then he’s taking it down, he decides. No use in waiting any longer now that surely everyone in the abbey has seen his request and the last thing he wants are pity calls.
✦ ✧ ✦ 
“So, are you going to call the Cardinal?”
You look up from your breakfast plate. Your friend Lily is sitting opposite of you, chewing on a blueberry muffin, and you narrow your eyes at her. “The Cardinal?”
“The number in the lonely hearts ad,” she says. “It’s still there, I checked earlier.”
“It’s the Cardinal?”
She nods, popping another piece of muffin into her mouth. “Duh.”
You feel your cheeks heating up and set your fork down to hide the sudden tremor in your fingers. “Which Cardinal?”
She gives a soft groan of annoyance. “Babe, there is only one of the Cardinals who would ever hang up such a goofy thing. Now, will you call him?”
Copia. She knows about your… slight infatuation with him. And despite being kind and not teasing you too much, it was just a matter of time until the occasion popped up. If he is looking for a serious partner… maybe it’s too late for you soon. The ad has been up for days and while you’ve been toying with the idea of calling, you just haven’t found the courage yet.
You continue eating, trying to act casual, but it takes you three attempts to pick up a stray piece of cucumber from your plate. “How do you even know it’s his number?”
Lily takes a deep breath, setting the muffin down to ready herself. “Sooo, Michael wanted to call the number to check who it is, right? Well, turns out his girlfriend already knew it’s the Cardinal’s number and his girlfriend is Sister Jill who knows it from Sister Mary who is roommates with Sibling Jessie who works with the treasury and their colleague Brother Paul works as the Cardinal’s assistant two times a week and that’s how he has the Cardinal’s number for emergencies.”
“Oh.”
“Yes, oh. Now, will you?”
Eyes on your empty plate, you bite your lip until you can taste blood. It’s Copia’s number, the number of your crush of about six months now, and he’s looking for a partner, unspecified. That’s… big news, intimidating news, news that calls to an action you’re not sure you’re prepared for.
Glancing at Lily, you catch her smirking at you and promptly give her a scowl. “I don’t know. What if he already got better options?”
She cocks her head to the side. “Better than you? I doubt it.”
“You’re biased because you’re my friend.”
A shrug. “You should try. What’s the worst that can happen?”
“He could be disappointed.”
“He’s more disappointed if no one calls,” she counters.
“Yeah but–”
You stop yourself when you see Nora, Lily’s girlfriend, approaching the table. Her arms wrap around Lily from behind as she presses a loud, lingering kiss to her cheek, both of them giggling.
“You scared me,” Lily says, turning around for a proper kiss.
“Sorry, love, but I can’t leave breakfast without my sweet treat.”
You avert your gaze, involuntarily feeling like an intruder. They’ve been together for a few weeks now, sickeningly adorable. Lily had been pining after Nora for months, a little bit like you with the Cardinal, only that she eventually found the courage to ask her out. To see her bravery being rewarded like that makes you incredibly happy for both of them. But at the same time… you have rarely ever felt your loneliness so sharply, the heaviness of your unreciprocated crush such a weight on your shoulders.
You know that if you want this to be you and the Cardinal, then there’s only one real answer to her question: You have to reach out to him.
✦ ✧ ✦ 
He’s ready to toss this day into the trash bin already and he only just got up. 
Last night, after tossing and turning for hours, Copia fell asleep only to promptly land in a hysterically embarrassing dream that made him jolt up whimpering like a kicked dog and hiding his face in the pillow. Bringing himself close to suffocation, he finally realised that he had not actually stumbled right in front of you, spilling juice all over his robes, scrambling to get up only to slip in the puddle by his feet, falling onto his butt with a high-pitched cry. You had been standing there motionless, watching the spectacle unfold until you turned around to leave.
This is the reaction he would expect, should he ever actually find the courage to ask you out. However, this is highly doubtful, because upon walking to his office half an hour later, he catches you with a group of friends. He often sees you with them – attractive young Siblings, evident chemistry between all of you, and every week he suspects a different one to be in love with you. He recognizes the two Sisters he saw from his window earlier this week. One of them presses a loving kiss to the other’s cheek and he wishes he could just walk up to you and do the same.
His heart hurts. No matter how much kindness you extend to him, you’re a beautiful young soul who could never be romantically interested in an aging loner. Copia is not disliked per se, he gets along with pretty much everyone, but he struggles to build meaningful connections. Between working his butt off to satisfy the clergy and spending time on his mostly solitary hobbies, it’s hard to meet people. He had to actively put himself out there but neither online dating nor any of the singles’ events Terzo sent him on brought any results – only what the young Siblings call getting “ghosted” or “benched”.
His ad is his last chance. And even that failed miserably.
As he ponders his options, your eyes suddenly meet his and he swears you’re smiling. Then you lift your hand in a cautious wave. For a second, he’s too scared to wave back because there are people around him, all of which could be your target. Your hand sinks after a moment as your smile slowly straightens and he suddenly knows that you do mean him. He lifts his hand far too excitedly in a reciprocative wave. Your smile returns, a shy one, but before he can even think about possibly approaching you, his knees suddenly give out.
No, they don’t give out, someone rams a trolly filled with supplies for Black Mass into him. Some of the tall candles roll off the top and clatter to the floor, breaking in half just like his dignity. 
“Oops, sorry, Cardinal,” the Sibling says, scrambling to help him up. “It’s so hard to steer this thing.”
“It’s fine,” he chokes out, the pain in his knees anything but fine. “It happens.”
“I’m truly so sorry.”
He smiles, a hand on their shoulder now that he’s on his feet again. “It is okay, eh? No worries.”
When his eyes try to find you again, you’re not there anymore and he can’t decide if he’s relieved or sad. He prays to Satan that you didn’t see him fall but there is no way you missed it. His dream, if slightly watered-down, did come true after all and perhaps now you won’t want to–
“Cardinal, are you alright?” 
Copia, still dizzy and skittish, spins around so hard he nearly stumbles again. He smooths out his now crumpled cassock, the dust he collected on the floor even more visible on today’s black vestments. In an attempt to retain his dignity, he straightens his spine and looks right into your beautiful eyes. You have a tendency to startle him like that and he wishes he could be more smooth about these encounters.
“Yes, yes, Sibling, thank you. It was… it was nothing, just a little stumble, eh?”
“Are you sure?” You inspect him from head to toe, your brow creased in concern. “It looked painful. Your knees…”
“Oh, my knees are fine!” he lies. “I kneel all the time, Sibling. You know this.” Your eyes widen and he continues to stammer. “I mean in prayer. I pray a lot. On my knees. I am a Cardinal, yes? It’s my job.”
 You nod heavily. “Yes, of course.”
“So, ugh… I better just fuck off.” He presses his lips together to keep more silly words from coming out. “I mean I’ll go back to work. ”
As he tries to leave, your hand shoots up, squeezing the muscles in his forearm. He’s not as much startled as enthralled by your touch, so unexpected that he has no time to feel insecure but so welcome that it almost feels natural to have your fingers on his arm. He swears there is a hint of nervousness in your eyes now and despite knowing it’s silly, his heart wants to interpret it as bashfulness.
“Cardinal, please. I… ugh…” 
You look beautiful from up close. Even if you weren’t stuttering he’d have a hard time listening to your words. It seems like you stopped breathing, your cheeks now a sweet shade of rosy, and you open your mouth to speak but no words come out. Eventually, you shake your head and run your fingers over the fabric of his sleeve. He thinks he’s about to pass out, his nerves rising until he can feel his heartbeat all the way up to his neck. Your hand is so gentle, so… affectionate.
“I’m sorry, Cardinal. I don’t mean to keep you. I was just thinking that I really like the black cassock. It suits you.”
A compliment. His mind is racing. This is not what you really wanted to say, he can tell, but he grins anyway. You like his cassock? Well, you should wait until you see him in a suit. Maybe on a date. He should ask, he realises. This is the moment he’s been waiting for for months now. But as he continues to stare at you his tongue becomes too heavy to form the words, and then your hand is suddenly gone and takes his courage right with it.
“Thank you, Sibling,” he says instead. “I also really like your ugh… your outfit.”
Only when the words leave his mouth does he realise it’s the same everyday habit you’re wearing all the time. Somehow, the silly compliment still manages to conjure a smile onto your face and so he stops berating himself because he made you smile. The sight stuns him, butterflies erupting in his already nervous stomach.
“I’ll see you later, Cardinal,” you say then, your eyes leaving his to glance down the hallway where your friends are waiting, beckoning for you to hurry.
Copia nods and he looks down at your hand in silent fascination, staring at your fingers that are dangling by your thigh without any use as if he could magically make them touch his arm again. “Yes, yes. See you,” he mumbles. “Bye bye.”
When he looks back up, you’re already hurrying off. Copia stays frozen, his gaze trailing after you as though his eyes are glued to your form. Even when you’re out of sight it takes him a while to start moving, to start breathing again.
Around him, the hallway slowly empties as everyone starts to tend to their respective duties. Copia can’t help but feel the nagging disappointment about not asking you out. A chance like this won’t suddenly appear again and even if you refused him it would still be less humiliating than the untouched ad at the bulletin board. He should take it off right now, he figures.
Only when he enters the hallway leading to his office, something looks off about the postings. He notices the change from the corner of his eye at first as he walks past the large corkboard. More party flyers have appeared, someone took down the “diamond butt plug set missing” request that had been hanging there since an orgy in the Siblings’ wing went wrong last month. Instead, Copia notices a large poster promoting condom usage that partly covers the request underneath. Which is how he recognises it.
His ad. 
And one of the numbers is missing.
Copia nearly lets out a loud squeal as realisation dawns on him like the gentle spring sun rising over the hills every morning, bringing warmth and happiness after a cold, dark night. It seems like Cupid finally answered his prayers, like Aphrodite found sweet mercy for him.
Someone took his number. Someone wants to reach out to him.
For the rest of the day, he feels like he swallowed a swarm of bees, staring at his phone like it’s going to light up any second. Which it could. He could receive the message or call that changes his life any second now. Any second. Any… any second.
Nothing happens. Not in the next hour, not in the next two hours. All day, in fact, his phone stays quiet. His initial happiness deflates like a balloon. As he heads towards his quarters that evening, he observes how everyone piles into the dining hall, their happy laughter and cheerful spirits spoiling his usually solid appetite. He hates the sour feeling of envy in his stomach but he can’t help but suspect that everyone conspired against him.
Copia decides to skip dinner in order to cry into a big bowl of gelato. His nightmare might not have come true but his brain tortures him with pictures of your smiling face instead, with the phantom feeling of your warm hand lingering on his arm, and he can’t help but feel crushed anyway. He’d sell his soul to come home to you, to eat with you, sit with you, watch silly movies with you, fall asleep with you in his arms and wake up with your smile as the first thing he gets to see every day. It becomes increasingly clear to him that every day he misses out on being with you is a day tragically lost.
If only he was brave enough to change that.
✦ ✧ ✦ 
You’ve been pacing your bedroom for the better part of the evening now, back and forth and back and forth to the point where you’re seriously concerned about wearing down your carpet. The day passed uneventfully apart from your encounter with Copia in the hallway where you made a complete fool of yourself. You would have loved to skip all of the unnecessary fuss of texting back and forth but you barely spoke more than two words to him before you chickened out. Surely, if his interest in you was romantic, he could just ask you out instead of advertising himself on a public corkboard?
In any case, you’ve been typing out messages for over an hour now, deleting every single one of them only to throw your phone onto the bed multiple times before picking it back up to risk another attempt.
The reason you haven’t given up yet is that Lily knows you have his number now. Last night, when you thought everyone was asleep, you snuck out of your dorm feeling like James Bond with your torch and black clothing, tiptoeing down the empty corridors of the abbey. You didn’t want anyone spreading any premature rumors but a part of you was hesitant to take one of the numbers at all. Even if you called him, it wasn’t certain that he’d want to go on a date with you.
Still, you ripped off one of the thumb-sized pieces of paper and headed back – only to promptly run into Lily as she snuck out to meet Nora. You’re never going to forget her self-satisfied grin as she spotted you with the crumpled number between your fingers.
Begging your creative juices to start flowing, you stare at the empty message box. Perhaps you should be funny. You wonder if he knows the Piña Colada song. It is about a lonely hearts ad after all and he’s a musician. You type and type, delete and retype until you end on a rough draft to show Lily when she gets home. But no, upon rethinking, the joke is too silly even for you and there’s probably a better way to phrase this–
“Hey, have you called him yet?”
You jump, your heart rate doubling in shock. Lily appears in the open doorway and her voice startles you so fiercely that you clutch your phone to your chest. To your utter horror, the swishing sound of a sent message reaches your ear as your palm connects with the touchscreen, and when you glance down, the bubble with your typed out message sits at the top of your chat history.
“Oh no,” you whisper.
“What?”
“I sent my stupid silly joke message to him.”
Lily picks your phone from your hands, reading the solitary message from the display. “Well, at least now you’ll know if he shares your weird sense of humour?”
You grasp her shoulder and release a deep, throaty groan. Her words don’t calm you in the slightest, if anything, they only make it worse.
✦ ✧ ✦ 
Driving Miss Daisy can’t distract him anymore.
Every two minutes Copia reaches for his phone to check for any missed texts or calls only to have the gapingly empty home screen staring back at him. He never figured out how to change the pre-set wallpaper. Perhaps he could try again when he has a cute couple picture of him and his future partner. The thought makes him smile. It’s one of many little things he would change – if they only called.
Despite putting it on vibrate, he doesn��t trust the device to inform him of any news. He even carried it to the toilet twice already, just in case something happens while he’s gone. His ice cream doesn’t satisfy him tonight, everything feels bland and devoid of flavour, but he refills his bowl anyway. One big spoon and a bit of spray cream… and as he walks back over to his bed, he realises that he should definitely check his phone again because this took way longer than two minutes.
Right as he pulls the device out his pocket, it vibrates violently in his hand. For a moment he is so shocked to see a message pop up that he throws it away. It lands on his bed, bouncing a few times, display still lit up with one new notification glaring at him from the centre of his screen.
He takes a deep breath. This is real. He got a message.
No, he can’t look at it, he’s going to lose his nerves. A few more deep inhales and slow exhales, then he can’t fight the suspension any longer. 
Hey, stranger :) You don’t like coconut, so you probably don’t like Piña Coladas, but maybe I’m still the love that you look for?  I would love to go on a date with you, if you are still looking for one. 
It takes him a second, then another one. The ice cream melts in his bowl as it sits forgotten on the floor next to his bed. Suddenly it clicks and he chuckles, in relief as well as amusement, thinking that he knows that song, that he gets the reference. That means this person is funny. They made a joke. He smiles to himself. A funny person wants to go on a date with him.
He types back, deleting, typing again. After five minutes, he comes up with a reply.
Hello, stranger! 👋🏼 I do not like Piña Coladas 🍹 but I have many better things to offer if you want to go on a picnic 🧺 with me tomorrow? I will bring food 🥪 and drinks 🧃 of course. Hopefully we do not get caught in the rain 💦😀
He thinks about how he could sign the message but then his nerves start to kick in. If he tells the person who he is, they may reconsider their choice to go out with him and that’s the last thing he wants. Even if the date doesn’t go well, he wants to try his best, so he shoots another message after the first: 
Oh. It will be a blind date, if that is okay with you?
The next minute is the longest of his life. An eternity passes. He thinks he might have stopped breathing with how tight his chest feels. That is, until his phone lights up and shows the same number again, wringing a deep sigh of relief from him.
That’s fine with me. Where do we meet?
The squeal he lets out vibrates in his chest and bounces off the walls.
He’s got a date. Finally.
✦ ✧ ✦ 
Copia hears his bad conscience somewhere in the back of his mind whispering that blocking the best spot in the gardens all day is selfish. Perhaps it is true, perhaps he feels a little selfish today. And yes, besides feeling selfish he also feels a little guilty. Is it fair to go on a date when he has such a horrible crush on someone else? No. No, it’s not fair. But he can’t let another chance at love run through his fingers like sand on the beach. He simply has to grasp this opportunity.
His red-checked blanket lays untouched underneath the tall chestnut tree, its big, hand-shaped leaves rustling in the soft breeze as he approaches. The head of a rat is stitched into all four corners  of the fabric – a gift from Sister for his latest birthday – and it’s been sitting here since nine o’clock when he took the liberty of… reserving… the spot. He picked the north-side of the tree so that the shade falls exactly where he’s going to be sitting with his date in approximately fifteen minutes. If they prefer the sun, he can just pull the blanket over a little, but he’d never forgive himself if they got sunburn because of him.
Copia took the day off, his first day off all year in fact, risking his next employee of the month award to spend all morning in town, running errands. With the end of May and strawberry season starting, he visited every grocery store within walking distance to find the ripest, juiciest ones they offered. He was lucky enough to obtain a small basket filled with the most delicious-looking red fruits and some additional fresh ingredients for his sandwiches. While he was quick-witted enough to ask about his date’s allergies yesterday, he completely forgot to ask them about their favorite snacks and so he’s decided to just bring anything he could think of that wouldn’t melt in the sun.
The basket he packed feels heavy in his hand for that exact reason and when he sets it down on the blanket, he can feel the strain in his arm. The past hour was spent obsessing over his outfit until he decided to just go for the white suit combo. Yes, white fabric near grass and juicy red fruits is not the most brilliant idea, but he wants to look his best and that means going the extra mile, even if he has to wear the tiny, itchy underwear underneath.
His heartbeat is going a mile a minute now. He can’t unpack yet, he doesn’t want the food to be out for too long, and so he sits and waits, his hands sweaty under his black and white leather gloves. The fact that the gardens around him slowly become crowded as the afternoon rolls around does nothing for his nerves. He can feel the curious glances, can hear the hushed whispers, and as the hour nears, he starts sweating even more despite the shade. If the unanswered ad had been embarrassing, being stood up so publicly would be even worse. 
And then the most horrifying thing ever happens.
Copia sees you walking along the path, wearing a weather-appropriate, slightly dressed-up outfit that makes his eyes involuntarily roam your whole form. But he can’t fully focus on your loveliness. At first, he’s panicking that you’re meeting your friends somewhere close by where you could see him with his date. He would be so embarrassed, so distracted, so uncomfortable. But you walk straight towards him and that’s even worse. If he has to tell you that he’s busy meeting someone else he might spontaneously combust, explode into tiny particles of humiliation. It would ruin everything, his date and his crush on you. What if his date shows up and sees you with him? What if–
Oh no, you don’t stop approaching, you don’t take a turn, you walk up straight to where he’s waiting – with a hint of hesitation, yes, but very directed steps. Copia jumps up immediately, his black hat nearly falling from his head.
“Oh, Sibling,” he stammers, lifting a trembling hand to adjust his fedora. “Hello, hi. Are you spending some time outside today as well?”
Your mouth opens and you wring your hands before hiding them behind your back. “Hello, Cardinal. I ugh… I’m supposed to meet someone here under the chestnut tree.”
Copia furrows his brow, slowly registering your words. “Meet someone. Under the chestnut tree.” 
“Yes.”
“Oh, Satan. It’s you?” He stops, stares, comprehends. He sounds incredulous, his voice a higher pitch than usual. “You’re my stranger?”
You nod, big eyes staring into his mismatched ones in silent expectation, hope and fear muddled together in the crease of your brow. He doesn’t know how to react, just rubs his thumb and index finger together as his mind races faster than speed limit.
“Is this… is this bad?” you finally ask, breaking the awkward silence.
“No!” Copia exclaims. “No, no, no. Please, please sit.”
You do, kneeling down on the blanket a little hesitantly. Copia joins you, still not fully trusting his senses. This feels like a hallucination. His disbelief has to be the only reason he hasn’t passed out yet. Is he really on a date with you right now?
After another moment of silence, Copia notices you eyeing the basket and snaps back into reality. His plans, his very detailed plans for how this date is supposed to go, flood his mind and he remembers the first step now. Swallowing his shock, he sits up a little straighter.
“Ah, eh… yes, I got you something.” He reaches behind the basket and procures three deep red roses he stole from Primo’s rose garden on the way here. Their intense smell hits his nose as he whips them past his face and hands them over. “These are for you. I hope you like roses. I know it is a bit cliché but also a classic, no?”
“I love them,” you assure him, holding them up to your nose with a smile. “Thank you, they’re beautiful.”
He smiles. “Good, good. Yes. So… I thought about what we could do and–”
“Cardinal,” you interrupt then. 
“Oh, no. No, call me Copia. Please.” He gives you a shaky smile. “We’re on a date, no?”
“Copia,” you try but feeling his name on your tongue doesn’t make you feel any better. Ever since getting here your bad conscience made it hard to fully settle into this date and with his visible distress upon discovering it’s you, you feel like now is the time to address it. “Before… before we do this, I have a confession to make…” 
He hums and wriggles his eyebrows. “Oh, really? Well, I would love to see you in confession soon…”
You blush furiously. “Oh, no. No, that’s not what I meant.”
A flash of concern and you can practically see all of his insecurities mirrored in his eyes. You’re both tiptoeing around the same question, you assume, but it’s on you to take the plunge.
“What… what do you mean then?” he asks.
“About this date…” His lightheartedness completely disappears. You feel bad for ruining the mood but it’s too late now and you need to get it out, you owe him that much. “Copia… It wasn’t a blind date on my part. I… I knew it was you.”
“You knew it was me?” he asks and again his features change, eyes wide now. He really had no idea that people knew the ad was his and suddenly he feels like a fool.
“I’m so sorry, I should have been honest from the start.” You stare at his gloved hand but you’re too scared to take it. “I hope you can forgive me for keeping this from you.”
“You knew it was me and you still… you still wrote to me? You still came?”
You furrow your brow. “I didn’t tell you because then I would have had to admit that it’s me and I was scared that maybe you wouldn’t want to go anymore.”
“Me? Not… not…” He shakes his head so fast that his fedora once again threatens to fly off. “Oh, tesoro, I would have… I would have been on the moon with joy, as they say. Yes, yes, I would have.”
You don’t correct him. Instead, an insecure smile settles on your face. “You know you don’t have to say that, Copia, it’s okay if you were hoping for someone else… That’s the risk of going on a blind date, right?”
He yanks your hand out of your lap, wrapping it up in both of his gloved ones. “Tesoro, can I be very honest with you?”
You nod. “Of course you can. Always.”
“I was hoping it was you.”
Your breath catches and steals your next words. The same incredulity that hit him earlier now settles in your chest and you can’t find it in you to question him.
Copia immediately fills the silence. “I never… I never thought…” You watch his Adam’s apple bob up and down, a nervous swallow, before he wets his lips. “Tesoro, you were always very good to me. I always saw your kindness, you understand this, yes? Don’t get me wrong, I just… I never thought you were interested in me like this. In such a silly old man.”
You have to giggle through your nerves. “I love that you’re a silly old man.”
He smiles shyly. “You are very sweet, tesoro.”
“I’ve actually had this crush for a few months now,” you admit, encouraged by his positive reaction. “And I want you to know that when I saw your ad I thought about calling even before I knew it was you.”
His smile grows impossibly bigger at that. “Did you?”
A nod. Copia squeezes your hand, then brings it to his face for a kiss. You feel his wet lips on your skin and they’re so soft, so gentle. When he sets your hand back down you see a trace of black lipstick on its back and instantly feel warm and fuzzy inside.
“Should we start then?” he asks. “I brought a lot of things, let me show you.”
The basket opens to reveal a plethora of food and drink options. Copia sets down a foil-wrapped plate with sandwiches that look a little wonky so you assume he made them himself, then some juice boxes, apple and orange, a box of fresh, delicious-looking strawberries, two bottles of water, reusable plastic cups and plates. At last, he hands you one of many different muffins he must have stolen from the kitchens.
“For my dolcezza,” he says with a smile.
More heat spreads in your cheeks as you take the little treat from him with a thanks. You’re both visibly losing your nervousness now, your postures less cramped, stretching out your limbs on the blanket with your bodies angled towards each other.
“Maybe we should… talk a bit about us?” Copia proposes. “To get to know each other, sì? I would like to learn about you.”
“Oh, yes, that sounds good. Do you want to start?”
He thinks on a good starter question, the pressure clouding his thoughts for a moment but then his silence grows thick and he has to say something. “So, ugh… do you like Star Wars?”
This is not one of the questions on his list of conversation starters. For some reason, every single meaningful thought suddenly leaves him. Luckily, this simple, safe question seems to put you at ease and you relax even more.
“I do,” you say. “I watched all the movies.”
“Oh, good! And what is your favorite?”
You pluck a piece from your muffin, popping it into your mouth. “Hmm… The Empire Strikes Back, I think.”
“Hehehe, sì, sì, I am your daddy.” His eyes widen. “Not that I’m… I don’t mean… you know, the scene with Luke… ugh. So, anyway, yes, that is my favorite as well.”
You giggle and he lights up, smiling so hard that his cheeks hurt. You reach for one of the sandwiches then. Copia helps, holding the plate up for you.
“So, these are all inspired by Italian foods. I have ugh… caprese. Mozzarella and tomato?”
You reach for the one he showed you. “That sounds great, thank you.”
Copia can’t help but stare as he awaits your reaction. You hum in delight and immediately take another bite of the soft bread. Satisfied, Copia allows himself to grab one as well now. Conversation slows down as you eat but you continue to talk about your interests between bites, finding more and more similarities as the minutes pass. 
Your little spot is beautiful, cool enough to sit comfortably but warm enough to feel the reviving effects of spring. The leaves above you rustle every now and then, birds and bees flying past, the odd ant crawling over your blanket in search of some crumbs. Neither one of you is bothered as you sip on your juice boxes in tandem and intuitively increase your proximity.
With your bodies gravitating towards each other like that, you end up sitting very close after a while. Copia reclines against the tree trunk, pulling his hat down to grant him more shade, a little bit like a cowboy leaning against the walls of a saloon. His white suit is an odd contrast to his relaxed pose, not the most comfortable outfit to lounge in. Without thinking too much about it, he pulls you close to him and angles you so you can rest your head in his lap. 
You’re only tense for a short moment. Copia gets rid of his gloves and you can feel his bare fingers running over your scalp. The steady pattern he draws calms you and you sigh, closing your eyes for a few minutes as a warm feeling of safety spreads out in you.
Copia can’t help but stare. Despite the initial hiccup, you’re so comfortable around each other that he feels like he’s known you forever. This is a dream come true for him, all his fantasies, his wishes, his longings, they all seem to come together in the lovely face dozing in his lap. You’re the most stunning sight he ever had the pleasure to behold. Every line, every hair, every mole, blemish or scar combines into the most beautifully painted canvas – and to him, it’s perfect. You’re perfect.
“Do you want a strawberry, tesorino?” he asks then.
You open your sparkly eyes and they reflect a speck of sunlight breaking through the canopy. Blinking a few times, you shift in his lap to avoid being blinded. He tenses as your cheek narrowly misses his groin, but then you nod and he distracts himself by reaching for the box of strawberries. 
With careful fingers, he grabs one of the shiny heart-shaped fruits, making sure to touch the stem to avoid any stains, and then guides it to your mouth. He can’t help but stare as he sees your lips part for him, the tip of your tongue peeking out to welcome the sweetness. You sink your teeth into the red flesh, so eager, and spatters of juice stain your lips. They appear even more saturated as you lick them clean, wetting them with your tongue, and he so desperately wants to kiss you.
“They’re so sweet already,” you say, taking the rest of the fruit from his hand.
“Yes, I agree.”
You giggle. “Copia, you haven’t even tried one yet.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean the strawberries.”
You huff out a flustered breath, fighting the still evident smile on your face, and hold the half-eaten strawberry up to his mouth. “Try.”
He lets you feed him with burning cheeks, keeping his eyes locked on yours. As his teeth meet the flesh, a few droplets of juice fall astray but he doesn’t even care if they ruin his suit anymore. He can’t stop looking at you, thinking about your soft hand so close to his mouth. He wants to kiss it again, desperately, and so he traps it with his when you try to pull away. With his lips pressed to your palm, he closes his eyes, kissing all the way down to your wrist where he lingers.
You gasp softly, lips parting as Copia continues to drag his lips over the delicate skin. Your reaction brings a smirk to his face, another moment that he’s going to think about for days to come.
“I tried, dolcezza,” he says. “And I think you’re still sweeter.”
You blush so prettily at that. Flustering you is easier than he expected and he takes notes of every little thing that draws a reaction from you. You spend another hour like this, eating fruit, drinking juice, chatting about all sorts of things while you exchange soft touches and words of your blossoming affection. At some point, the gentle breeze that carries on throughout the afternoon becomes stronger, and more and more people head back inside to escape a possible weather change.
Neither one of you wants to leave but as you start to shiver more violently, Copia’s worry about you catching a cold wins over his desire to prolong your date. He proposes to head inside as well, running his hands over the goosebumps on your bare arms to warm you up.
When you reluctantly agree, he starts to pile your dishes and the leftover food into the basket. You move to help but he stops you with a tut. “I will pack this up, eh? Don’t worry about it.”
“I could help you, you know.”
“Ah, no no. I invited you, yes? It is my pleasure.”
It only takes him a few minutes to pack everything up. You grab your flowers in the meantime and he watches from the corner of his eye as you sniff them with a growing smile on your face, swaying slightly from left to right. As Copia shakes out the blanket, folding it messily in the middle, you hesitate by the edge of your little picnic spot.
“So, do you want to walk back together?” you ask.
Copia smiles, glad that you don’t want to leave him quite yet. “I would like that a lot, tesoro. Should I carry the roses for you?”
You hand them over and he places them on the lid of the basket before he carefully picks it up. When he’s by your side again, you stop him with a hand on his forearm, the same gentle squeeze you gave him the last time. Only this time you don’t leave. Instead you lean in and press a soft kiss to his reddened cheek, your lips lingering for a few seconds longer than necessary. Copia opens his mouth but he can’t think of anything to say. Instead he uses his unoccupied hand to fish for yours.
Hand in hand, palm against palm, you walk past the leftover groups of Siblings that make use of the last few moments of sun. Neither of you spares anyone else even a glance. Whenever your eyes aren’t focused on the path ahead, they meet each other, giddy, love-sick smiles gracing your lips.
As you finally pass the first archway and enter the cool stone corridors of the abbey, Copia suddenly stops. Your arms slowly extend as you take a few more steps but before your hand can slip from his, he pulls you back. Maybe he used a little bit too much force or maybe he just caught you by surprise, but you practically stumble into his arms. A gasp falls from your lips. You make no attempt at breaking away and so Copia gently guides you against the frame of the archway, setting down the basket in the process so he can place his other hand on your hip.
Big eyes look up into his. He leans in slowly. The rim of his hat catches the stone and it finally slips from his head, dropping somewhere. Copia doesn’t care because he can already feel your sweet strawberry breath on his lips and nothing could stop him from getting a taste. Your hands impatiently grab at his lapels, then, pulling him even closer, and he gasps at the force of your need. With your eyes falling closed, lips slightly parted and your chin tilted up, Copia feels like he’s in a dream.
“Please,” you whisper.
He has to fight a moan, the word resonating somewhere deep inside his belly. Still, he draws out  the moment for as long as he can, stalling as the tension crackles in the tiny space that separates you. He starts by nuzzling your nose while he pushes his hand upwards until he can grasp your jaw. As he angles your head just right, he feels your lashes fluttering against his cheeks. He fights off a giggle as they continue to tickle his skin and you shift slightly against him, growing impatient.
“Co–”
His mouth swallows your next syllable. You hum against him as his lips capture yours with gentle adoration. The grip on your waist tightens at the same time as his thumb presses into your cheek. Want, need, trickles into your belly and Copia feels the same way, moving his mouth against yours with slightly more pressure. The kiss is still slow, still tame, but it’s unmistakable how much stowed up desire for the other you both hold inside.
For a while you continue like this, your body trapped between Copia and the cool stone and the world around you a mere shadow. You open your mouth for air and that’s when you can feel his tongue cautiously pushing against yours. The sensation makes you feel even more fuzzy, the need for oxygen forgotten as you tangle your tongue with his. The taste is sweet, residues of fruit and juice, and underneath it all you feel Copia. Copia.
You only break away when you’re both struggling to keep up the pace. He’s a mess, his lipstick gone, black smears covering his chin and cheeks where his eye make-up rubbed off. You lift your hand to wipe some of your mingled spit off of his chin and the blissful expression on his face makes you smile. You love to see his face ruined like this, you decide. And Copia, seeing the lipstick-smears all over your kiss-swollen mouth, unknowingly thinks the same.
“We should do this again sometime,” you say. “The date but also… this. Actually, I think we should do it again right now.”
Copia chuckles, resting his forehead against yours. “How about we never stop doing it?”
You nod your approval, wrapping your arms around him to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. It’s soft, if a little bit sweaty, messy from the loss of his hat. “I would like that a lot, Copia.”
“I mean it, tesoro,” he whispers with a hint of insecurity. “I don’t want to stop spending time with you. Ever. We already wasted enough of it.”
A big smile breaks out on your face. Copia can’t help but return it, squeezing you a little tighter to his body, and you giggle happily as he kisses your nose.
“You’re right,” you finally say. “Let’s not waste another moment.”
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Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this silly little story – kudos, comments, rbs etc are as always much appreciated ♡
Masterlist – My Ao3
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